


hurricane

by bombcollar



Category: Splatoon
Genre: First Person, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 16:51:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5213486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bombcollar/pseuds/bombcollar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Callie goes to a lot of bad parties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hurricane

**Author's Note:**

> took inspiration from Less Than Zero and Perfect Blue.

The party’s at one of those houses on stilts, built hanging off the cliffs about a hundred feet above the ocean. It’s a hot night in the dead of summer and the wind is strong. Road crews have been clearing fallen palm trees off the streets all week. One almost fell through our window this morning but it just hit the side of the condo and damaged the siding. I still moved my bed away from the window even though there were no other trees close enough to fall through it.

Being on the deck makes me nervous. I imagine I can feel the house swaying every time there’s a strong enough gust, even though they account for those things when they build houses like this. It’s drowning out the music and you have to yell just to hold a conversation. There’s supposed to be a storm coming, a big one, but nobody really seems to care about the dark clouds or the wind or the thunder that rolls in every few minutes. I want to go back inside but instead I’m standing out by the railing and some older guy, I don’t remember who he is exactly, movie producer I think, he’s going on about some movie he’s making and he’s got an arm leaned on the rail next to me and the other propped on his hip, kind of penning me in. I’m faking interest poorly but he seems to be buying it anyway, going on and on about a new film, how I’m not a kid anymore and maybe I should think about doing something serious, I can’t host the news and sing for tweens forever.

He says he can get me a part, I’d be perfect, and something else but I don’t hear him over the wind so I just fake laugh and it’s the laziest one I’ve done yet, barely bothering to smile. He’s leaning in way too close and he smells like cologne and sweat and something else I can’t really place, maybe cleaning products, but why would he smell like that? He asks me what I think and I can’t remember if he actually told me what the part was or what the movie was about so I just tell him I have to talk to my manager about it and he says okay and winks and I feel like throwing up. I want to find Marie and leave but she’s not out on the deck and this guy still isn’t done talking to me apparently, asking if I want a drink. I tell him I have one already, the red plastic cup of soda perspiring in my tentacle, probably watery and flat by now for the amount of time I’ve been smiling and nodding at him. He says no, a _real_ drink and I tell him thanks but I can get my own drink if I want one, which I don’t, I just want to go home. He says sure and before he can say anything else I walk off, back into the house which is crammed full of people but at least it’s not outside where I can see the clouds being hurried across the sky by the wind and see the trees bending double.

I scan the crowd for Marie but I don’t see her and for some reason this scares me, even though she can take care of herself, she’s always been able to, she’s probably just in another room but I need to find her right now. The house groans and I wonder if this many people should be in it, if this is safe at all. As if in answer the storm sirens begin to wail outside, high and strident over the quickly dying party chatter. The lights flicker as a tree falls on some power lines somewhere and nobody is talking now, except for the radio which has switched over to an automatic emergency broadcast, telling people by the coast to evacuate to higher ground…


End file.
